


Glaciers Melting In the Dead of Night

by kissesfromkrug



Series: How To Be A Heartbreaker [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Background Relationship(s), Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Slurs, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-10 03:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissesfromkrug/pseuds/kissesfromkrug
Summary: "Anyway, say this friend is infatuated, obsessed, whatever, and they wanna let the guy know in subtle ways, you know? How would that go down?""No wonder you came to me, Mr. Unsubtle-As-Fuck."





	Glaciers Melting In the Dead of Night

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit, fictional; feel free to point out any typos. :)
> 
> Title taken from "Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse.

It's not like Mitch was keeping it a secret or anything, really. He's not very good at secret-keeping anyway. 

Did Auston not see the touchy-feely way Mitch interacted with the team, and especially Auston? Did he not pick up on Mitch's offers and blatant drunken innuendos? Did he choose to ignore Mitch's over-the-top adoration for him and his beautiful hockey? 

Auston had to be blind not to see it. Or maybe he didn't want to see it. Maybe he didn't want to believe it. 

Mitch hasn't lost his charm or energy, but if someone were to look in his eyes - and truly look - they'd see two pits of despair, seconds away from collapse. He'd lost his everything, and all it took was one short minute - one moment to destroy every fragment of his hope. He never thought that something so disgusting and someone so wonderful could ever go together. 

Then again, Auston probably thinks the same of him. 

• • •

One blustery winter day he decided to pursue his final dream - he hadn't been denied before. Look at his paycheck, at his social media. He's living the life, only a step away from pure bliss.

"Hey Willy," he says easily, leaning forward so his head sticks between the seats of the row in front of him. "Wanna help me out with something?"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was gonna say!"

"Don't care." Willy goes to put in his earphones, but Mitch says something that makes him freeze. 

"Or I could accidentally mention that you got off to a picture of-"

"Shut up, don't even - just stop," Willy rushes out, looking back at him. "And blackmail isn't fair. You can't play that game."

"You don't make the rules." Mitch grins at him, and Willy huffs. 

"What am I helping with, asshole?" Score. 

"When we land..." Mitch trails off, and Willy nods grudgingly.

"Meet you in my room, I'll kick Kappy out for a bit."  

• • •

"Alright, so say someone I know is really obsessed with this guy they're friends with," Mitch starts, legs criss-crossed on Willy's bed.

"So like...you and Matts?"

"No, dummy, I said _someone I know._ Jesus, Willy, listen, for once in your life."

"-and if you're talking about me, I swear to god-" Willy warns, but Mitch laughs. 

"No, I'm not helping you out with your relationship problems. Maybe once you help me solve this one, I'll give it a thought." Willy rolls his eyes, otherwise unresponsive. "Anyway, say this friend is infatuated, obsessed, whatever, and they wanna let the guy know in subtle ways, you know? How would that go down?" Willy snorts.

"No wonder you came to me, Mr. Unsubtle-As-Fuck."

"Are you gonna help me with this or what?" Mitch asks, crossing his arms and looking like some meditation statue.

"Kicking and screaming all the way," Willy answers smoothly, and Mitch wants to kick him.

" _Any-fucking-way-_ " He stares Willy down to make sure he doesn't make another obnoxious comment. "What would said friend do in such a situation?"

"Talk normal, dude, all these big words are confusing me. Who are you and what did you do with the real Marns?"

"Oh, sorry, forgot your brain is smaller than most," Mitch snarks, and if they keep talking like this, they're going to get absolutely nowhere. "Are you gonna help me or is the world gonna know that you stole some pretty dirty snaps from Kappy's phone?" Willy's mouth opens to protest, but Mitch continues, "I know you jerk it to his nudes, don't fucking lie to me."

"Shut up," Willy says quickly, tackling Mitch and forcefully pinning his arms to the bed. He doesn't even try to deny it. "You shouldn't know that, fucking stalker."

"But I do. So." Mitch leers up at him. "Be helpful." He squirms a bit, but it's to no avail.

"Will I get something if I listen to you?"

"Maybe I'll help you get Kappy...if you're nice." Willy tries to smile.

"Nice? Good one."

" _Maybe_." 

• • •

"So, guys may or may not like flowers," Willy says. "I know I do, but like, some people think they're too cool for flowers, which - lies."

"Aww, how cute!" Mitch laughs, pinching Willy's cheek. "You got a favorite?"

"Um..." He eyes Mitch to make sure he's not being made fun of, saying, "I like - don't laugh at the name - this Swedish plant called blueweed. It's this little thing that grows on a stalk a few feet high, and there are a bunch of flowers on it and there's half a dozen stalks per plant."

"You really like flowers, eh?"

"Got a problem with that?" Willy defends, looking up from his phone.

"Just saying," Mitch grins, and Willy narrows his eyes before showing him a photo.

"This is what it looks like." 

"Nice." He wants to ask if Willy thinks Auston would like them, but catches himself just in time. "Can you find them here?"

"No, not really, which is why I also like sunflowers."

"You have a backup favorite?" Mitch asks, leaning forward, and Willy kicks him. They're quiet for a second until Mitch thinks aloud, "Flowers aren't really subtle though, you know?"

"How about touching?" Willy suggests. Mitch smirks knowingly, dodging the second blow. "Not like  _that_ , you perv, like...casual hand touches, hugs, pats on the back - stuff like that."

"And how are you single, again? How haven't you seduced Kappy and fucked him yet?"

" _Stop bringing it up_ ," Willy says firmly.

"But like-"

"Because it's easier said than done, that's how. I'm not - I'm not good at the follow-through." He looks like he'd rather get hit by a bus than deliver that information, but it's out there and he can't take it back that he's horrible in relationships. Mitch will use it to his chirping advantage - when he's done arguing.

"But you can hook a perfect 10 at a bar in under 10 minutes," Mitch points out. "Your game has to be pretty good." Willy flushes high on his cheeks, and _oh_. Wait a sec.

"Don't."

"Are you saying that it's not just-"

"Shut up, this isn't about me," he interrupts quickly, face contorting into a questionable expression.

"You want him to love you _and_ suck your dick?"

"I said shut the fuck _up_ , Marns, we're supposed to be helping you with your issue."

"It's for a _friend_ , William, I _told_ you that." 

"Don't call me William."

"Pasta does," Mitch says, referencing the time he saw an interview of the two of them together. "When was the last time you guys-"

" _Don't call me William_." Willy's fists are clenched, and Mitch drops it for the moment. They've got more important things to worry about. 

• • • 

" _Someone's_ got a fan!" A voice calls as Auston walks into the locker room with a giant cut sunflower.

"Taking up gardening, eh, Matts?"

"Who's it from?"

"Why don't people send _me_ flowers?"

"Shut up, guys, I don't know who it's from, probably my mom or something," Auston announces, setting the flower up on the ledge where his helmet sits. He throws the helmet into his stall, and Mitch side-eyes him as they strip. 

"Where'd it come from, Ajuice?" Kappy slings an arm around Auston's shoulder as he's trying to undo his belt. 

"Front office said someone dropped it off, wouldn't say from who though."

"You could've bribed them to tell you."

"They don't need money from bribes, and I wouldn't do that anyway," Auston says, ducking out of Kappy's grip and carefully folding his dress pants. Mitch tries as hard as he can not to think about the fact that Auston just so happens to be, ah, _well-endowed_ in both the front and back. Don't blame him for staring, blame Auston's genes. Not to mention his actual jeans - god _damn_ , the things they do for his ass. It's unbelievable.

As Mitch steps in the shower, he closes his eyes and pictures Auston's face blushing down at the flower. He wonders if Auston will keep it, if he'll put it somewhere special, maybe in a tall, thin glass vase in his bedroom, on top of that super modern dresser. Maybe he'll stare at it at night, thinking of the mystery person that gave him such a beautiful gift. Maybe he'll jerk off in his room, within feet of the flower -

Mitch should probably tell him where it came from.

"Whatcha thinking about, Mitchy?" He jumps as the real Auston's voice asks him a question, and he looks over to see the American grinning back at him.

"You gonna put that flower in a glass case?" Mitch says instead of the inappropriate things he's been thinking about Auston's dick. To be honest, it's a really nice one, but it wouldn't be too great to just _tell_ him that while they're all naked. "Gonna find your secret admirer, eh?"

"Fuck off," Auston says, a hint of a blush on the back of his neck as he turns to grab the shampoo.

Step one is a success in Mitch's book.

• • •

 

 

 

 

> **@auston_matthews** : It's my lucky day! Thanks to whoever sent this #favorite #secretadmirer [selfie of Mitch on Auston's back, holding flower in front of his face and laughing] ****

• • •

"You were the one that got him a flower," Willy says, cornering him in the depths of the MasterCard Centre. "There's no one else who-"

" _I_ wouldn't give a guy a flower unless it's on top of his coffin," Mitch answers, "And dude, it's from a crazy fan or something." Willy studies his face intently for several long seconds.

"Don't believe you."

"You've got no reason not to." Mitch smiles lazily at him, "Let's get going, I want a BLT."

"You can't-"

"Move your ass, Willy Ny, we're getting some goddamn sandwiches." Mitch slips out from his spot between Willy and the wall, smacking his ass and relishing in the surprised yelp.

"I hate you, Marner!" He only laughs and sprints down the hallway.

"You won't catch me till you believe me!"

• • •

"How's your friend's guy doing?" Willy asks, plopping down next to him on the bus ride to the hotel.

"Heard he's not really picking up on it - probably a little too subtle," Mitch says, and yeah, he _probably_  should fess up sometime soon, but that will most likely mean a year's worth of chirp material for Willy and anyone in the blast range. Besides, creating an imaginary friend isn't too hard, he can just base his characters off Davo and Stromer.

"He try flowers?"

"He said he would, but he doesn't know what kind to get." 

"Roses are classic, but lilies are also really nice - and they smell good, too," Willy says, plugging in his earphones.

"Talk about gardening, you two, _geez_ ," Gards says, raising an eyebrow at them from across the aisle. "Nerds."

"You _wish_ you knew this much about flowers," Mitch replies. "Maybe it's why you got no game. Nothing about romance in that tiny brain of yours."

"Tiny brain? Take an X-ray and look in your own head, Marns, might need a microscope to see it."

"X-rays are for bones, dumbass," Auston says from behind them, not looking up from his phone. "An MRI can see muscles and shit."

"Then what does a CAT-scan do?" Willy chooses to leave himself out of their bickering and asks Mitch,

"You still need my help?" Mitch sends him a withering look. 

"Flowers and a hug isn't gonna make someone fall in love, especially not this person."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause it hasn't worked yet!"

"What hasn't worked yet?"

"None of your business," Willy says quickly, sending Kappy an uncharacteristically nervous look. Mitch just wonders how many extra hugs it'll take for Auston to notice.

• • •

"Oh fuck - get off, Mitchy," Auston laughs as he's enveloped in a tight hug, arms around his neck as Mitch jumps up and down.

"We won we won we won!" He shouts in Auston's ear.

"I know I know I know!" Auston finally gets ahold of Mitch's arm and tugs him off his back. He just beams up at Auston's pink chapped lips, wishing he could sink his teeth into them while his hands twist in the Leafs logo on the front.

Mo comes in and cheers, so the rest of the team is obligated to join in. Mitch finally stops staring and makes his way over to his stall, chucking his black socks at Auston and laughing. "What the hell?"

"I can smell your ego from here," Mitch answers with a smirk.

"So...socks?" Mitch just laughs, turning the other way at a hand on his knee.

"Is it you?" Willy asks, keeping his voice well below everyone else's shouts. Weird. Usually he's getting a noogie from a vet or yelling compliments in Freddy's face. 

"Is what me? I'm me, I'm all good - I'm  _better_ than good, I'm fucking fan _tas_ tic!" Mitch beams at him, all teeth.

"Your 'friend'?"

"What?"

"Mitch-"

"Oh, _oh_ \- no no, it's not-" He breaks off, glancing around. "Talk later." Willy raises an eyebrow and heads back across the room as Mitch adds, "It's not me, I swear!"

"It _is_  you!" Auston exclaims, ruffling his hair; a thank you for the assist on his game winner. "You're fuckin' amazing!"

"Says the future Cup winner," Mitch says honestly, a knowing glint in his eye. "We all know this is our year - _your_ year."

"Hey hey, don't jinx it!" Mitch looks around, feigning fear, and Auston laughs again.

"Future Captain?"

"Nah, that's all Mo's if he wants it." Auston pauses as the room quiets down. "Wanna get a drink tomorrow night? We have practice tomorrow morning but not the day after."

"S'long as you don't stand me up," Mitch says, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. "Then my answer is fuck yeah." Auston beams right back at him, and things couldn't be going better. 

• • •

It's official - Auston is going to be the death of Mitch. 

Mitch can't help but stare as he climbs into the passenger seat of his car, jeans stretching tightly over his thighs and ass. Mitch caught a glimpse of a plain t-shirt under a zipped-up gray jacket - and it shouldn't be sexy or endearing or anything out of the ordinary - except that it totally is. 

"You gonna drive sometime tonight, or should I walk there instead?"

"Did you ever figure out where that flower came from?" Mitch asks instead, stepping on the pedal.

"My parents said it wasn't either of them," Auston says, and wow, he's oblivious. "So I'm not sure. It is nice, though." Mitch thinks to the time when he and Davo visited the Strome household over the summer.

"Stromer's mom grows a shit ton of flowers, maybe they're from her. Davo said he likes flowers too - but don't tell him I said that, he'll make me feel like a guilty piece of shit 'cause I told you." 

"Mrs. Strome? Why would _she_ send me anything? I hardly know Dyls."

"Apparently you know each other well enough to call him that," Mitch points out. 

"Just a nickname I've heard floating around. Why so curious?" Mitch shrugs.

"Just wanna know who's interested in my bestie." He looks over at Auston, who's grinning proudly. There's a comfortable silence between them until they arrive at a quieter bar in town.

"Two mules," Auston tells the bartender, settling into his seat and watching a replay of some soccer game.

"Anything specific you wanted to talk about?" Mitch asks once they receive their drinks, trying to calm his jittery nerves, and Auston shrugs. Mitch's knee bounces uncontrollably as he takes a sip of the drink.

"Would you be interested in getting an apartment to share with me?" Mitch almost chokes, and hey, it's not every day that he gets an offer to live with one of his top five favorite people. "We could split the bills and-"

"Fuck yeah - I mean, uh, sure, yes, that sounds great! Yes, please-" Auston laughs loudly, bright in the dim lighting of the bar, and Mitch feels his stomach turn in the best way as Auston brushes the hair out of his face. 

"Nice," Auston replies easily. "I'll talk to the real estate agent about finding a place. We can visit a few over break." Mitch is nearly vibrating out of his skin, and he downs nearly the rest of his drink in one gulp. 

"So.  _Do_  you like sunflowers?"

• • •

"Has he picked up on it yet?" Willy asks one night when they sit side by side at a team dinner.

"My friend's friend?" Mitch replies. "Nah, still clueless, I think." He knows Willy probably doesn't want to be offering relationship advice, but he's a nice guy with nice hair, and going through similar problems with Kappy. Mitch appreciates his honest effort.

"Jesus fuck, that guy must be blind as hell," Willy laughs, and Mitch joins in, 'cause, well - Auston _is_ pretty fucking blind to anything resembling a steady relationship. Probably hasn't had a real girlfriend since high school. Or boyfriend. Mitch still isn't really sure of Auston's preferences.

"What're you two plotting over there?" Mo asks, leaning across the table. 

"Top secret," Willy says, putting a silencing finger to his lips. "I can't tell you." While he fends off Mo's questioning, Auston nudges Mitch's foot with his own.

"Doing good, bud?" Mitch nods, resisting the urge to grab Auston's big hand and press kisses to his knuckles.

"Yeah, you?" Auston shrugs. They all order as soon as the waitress comes by, and he breathes out a sigh.

"Just thinking a lot, uh, about..." 

"What?"

"Our future, my future - the future in general."

"Don't get all inspirational and philosophical on me here," Mitch warns, leaning away from him. "I never learned about that kind of deep shit in high school." Auston chuckles, and Mitch suddenly wants to kiss every part of his face and neck. Fuck off, brain.

"We going out after this?" Willy asks him, and Auston leans over to listen.

"I'd be okay with it." Willy raises an eyebrow at Mitch, who smiles back at him. 

"Guess we can make him a third wheel." He quickly turns to face Willy with his entire body, in case something wasn't clear about that.

He totally didn't think about going on a date with Auston. He hardly considered waking up by Auston's side every morning, legs entangled and head on Auston's chest. Definitely didn't let his mind wander to Auston's hands and what they could do to him - or what he'd let Auston do to him - nor did he think such things about Auston's dick. Not at all.

He most certainly did not think about living with Auston forever, ending up as that domestic couple who sweeps the house and eats scrambled eggs and argues about stupid things and does everything together and is in perfect synchronization. He didn't imagine marrying Auston and playing hockey with him in blue and white for the rest of their careers. No thoughts came to mind about being able to kiss Auston whenever he wanted, murmur sweet nothings in his ear, feel the smooth ridges of his abs under Mitch's fingers.

All of that is a lie, of course. Mitch thought of all of it - and much more.

"Earth to Marns, come in Marns." Kappy is waving a hand in front of his face, his seat directly across the table from them, and Mitch blinks slowly. 

"Huh?"

"Daydreaming about someone?"

"No." Mitch's immediate defensive response sends up laughter among his teammates. 

"Very convincing...to a rock. Now spill the beans, Marns, I wanna know."

"It's really no one, I swear, I was just thinking about the steak I'm gonna eat in five seconds flat." Mitch's words come out a little rough, and he hopes they're sufficient enough to provide for a topic change.

"'No one' makes you look like you've seen an angel?" Kappy challenges. "Pretty sure steak can't do that."

"You don't know me and my love of steak, Kappy, don't make any assumptions."

"Don't assume my gender," Auston says in a high-pitched voice. "I identify as a bisexual blue baby carrot, no judgement allowed!" The whole table laughs, including Mitch, even though he kind of wants to hit something afterwards.

He doesn't say another word throughout dinner, scarfing down his steak in record time - "I _told_ you I loved steak, Kappy" - and getting up as soon as the bill is paid. 

"You gotta talk like you're interested or he'll never have a clue," Willy says from behind him, and Mitch jumps as they walk to the parking lot. "You're gonna have to jump him some time or another, or else-"

"It's not me, Willy, what're you _talking_ about?" Mitch asks, straight up lying through his teeth. 

"Mitch. You can't fool me anymore, I _know_ you're in love with Matts. Half the fucking _world_ knows and he can't take a single hint."

"I never said-"

"Honestly, Marns, shut the fuck up," Willy interrupts. "Don't argue with me. You know I'm right." Mitch doesn't answer -  _can't_  answer. He knows, Willy knows, probably the whole team knows - the whole city of _Toronto_ knows that he's in love with Auston. Everyone does - except fucking  _Auston_.

Of course he picked the dumbest one as his favorite.

• • •

"You gotta make a move," Willy insists, and Mitch pouts and crosses his arms. 

"How? I don't know how to seduce people!" Willy just snorts. "I swear - like, I think I'm being all sexy and shit, but it just makes people laugh. Like, do I really look that stupid?"

"C'mon, bud, you actually gotta try. Think about it for like, two seconds."

"Try how?"

"Kissing someone isn't that hard if you don't stress about it for eight months ahead of time," Willy says, and Mitch narrows his eyes. 

"What's this?" He asks, poking a small bruise peeking out of his collar. 

"It doesn't matter, it's nothing." Willy casually runs a hand through his hair, shifting so the mark is out of sight.

"Oh my god, you didn't - Kappy?" Mitch laughs, and Willy flushes. "Ha! I knew it! See, you didn't need me to help with that."

"How did we figure it out before you?" Willy asks confusedly, a smile appearing on his face as Mitch attempts to shove him off the couch.

"'Cause he's a dumbass!"

"Sure it's not you?"

"Oh, go suck a dick," Mitch says with an eye roll, having failed to budge his friend. Willy smirks. Shit. 

"Maybe I will," he says in a sultry tone, pulling out his phone.

"Shut up," Mitch whines, pushing at Willy's shoulder. "But legit - I can't just _kiss_ Auston out of the fucking blue!"

"You mean you don't want to?"

"No, I-"

"Take the risk, Marns, if he's worth this much stress, you gotta find out whether you have a chance. You can't wait any longer for him to find you, you gotta go out there and challenge it, challenge him. You're never gonna know unless you try." 

"Willy-"

"Take a chance, Marns. Any opportunity you get. Fucking _grab_ that thing."

"You're being too inspirational."

"Good." 

Mitch has the best friends.

• • •

"Aus, just one dance!" Mitch begs, tugging at his arm. "Willy's already gone and I have no one to talk to!" He leaves out the fact that Willy grabbed Kappy's ass, which led to them promptly leaving after giving the bartender a handful of $20's. 

"Pick some hot girl, Mitchy, that group of 'em over there has been staring since we got here." _But I don't_ want _a girl_ , Mitch mourns silently. _I want some dumb guy who can't see that I'm so fucking in love with him_. 

"I don't wanna!" He braces the heels of his feet against the floor and adjusts his tight grip on Auston's upper arm, pulling with all his might. "Just one? _Please_?" Auston slides off his chair with a huff, and Mitch beams like the sun. "Yay!"

"Just one," Auston warns, but Mitch doesn't even care. They're already in the middle of a crushing crowd of sweaty strangers who don't give a fuck about who they are. Perfect.

"Move those hips!" He shouts at Auston, who looks a bit embarrassed at Mitch's awful, shameless dancing. 

"You're drunk and you suck at dancing," Auston tells him, and Mitch is suddenly knocked forwards into his chest. He looks up at Auston with a crooked smile, reaching around to pinch the skin right above his ass.

"I know what I want!" Mitch giggles uncontrollably at Auston's confused expression, hands on his hips as he pulls their bodies flush with each other. 

"Mitch-"

"Shut up and dance with me, ayy!" Auston finally laughs as Mitch sticks out his tongue and shakes his head. He hopes that they're complete strangers in the club - no drunk-Mitch-dancing pictures, please and thank you.

Mitch reopens his eyes, hands still holding onto Auston like a lifeline. Auston's staring down at him with those wildly intense eyes, the ones that scream "ravage me, I dare you". Mitch breaks.

Letting go of Auston's waist is slightly saddening, but nothing in his life can compare to the blissful feeling of those red lips on his. His fingers dig into the back of Auston's neck, stroking the soft hair as Mitch's hips bump Auston's again. He licks along the plump lower lip and bites, but that's when it all falls apart. 

"What the fuck?" Auston looks horrified, having gained enough self-awareness to push Mitch off him. "I'm not - what the fuck are you doing?"

"I love you so much, you're so pretty and perfect," Mitch slurs over the noise, a look of honesty and adoration written all over his face. Auston pales in the flashing strobe lights, the music beating in time with his thumping heart.

He slowly backs up through the crowd, taking one last look at Mitch before turning tail and running out the door.  _Fuck_.

Mitch's eyebrows knit together as he stands motionless for a moment. His legs finally get with the program, and he stumbles outside to see Auston leaned up against the outside of the club, hands over his face. "Aus?" His head shoots up, and Mitch takes a step toward him as he exclaims,

"Get away from me!"

"Hey, sorry, I didn't - I thought-" Mitch says, words falling over one another. He's not gonna regret his hangover in the morning, though. He'll sleep till the afternoon and beat the system.

"Don't fucking come near me - stop it!" His voice is high-pitched and frantic as he backs away, pleading, "Please don't-"

"I'm sorry, Aus!" Mitch pouts, and really, he's not one bit sorry that he kissed the love of his life. Not sorry at all - not yet, that is. He stretches out his arms for a hug. 

"Don't fucking touch me!" There are hardly any people on the street to witness Mitch's heart being ripped out of his chest and trampled before his eyes. "Don't touch me, faggot - you didn't fucking tell me - what the fuck?" Auston's shouting has attracted the attention of a few people, but he couldn't care less. "I hate it - I hate you - what the fuck is wrong with you, oh my god!"

"Auston?" Mitch's voice is small and broken as he drops his arms to his sides.

"Don't talk to me, I don't wanna talk to a goddamn _fag_!" Auston yells, despite being well within Mitch's hearing range. Mitch feels his eyes well up with tears, and he takes a step back.

"I thought you were-" He chokes on the words. "I thought you were good. I love you 'cause you were supposed to be a good person." Auston has nothing to say to that, turning and running down the empty sidewalk as fast as his legs will take him. 

Mitch, honest and truly, wants the crack in the sidewalk to swallow him whole. He doesn't want this anymore. 

• • •

"Who threw you in the dumpster and slammed the lid, grouchy pants?" Willy asks after pounding on Mitch's bedroom door and receiving no answer. Mitch pulls the blankets over his head and grips them tightly. "Hey, bud, talk to me." 

"I hate myself so much," Mitch whispers. 

"What?" He doesn't repeat it, so Willy rips the blanket away to see Mitch's red-eyed, tear-stained face. "Why?" Mitch refuses to look at him, eyes on the ceiling. "Mitchell," Willy says in the mom-voice he thought only Mo could pull off. "Talk to me."

"He fucking hates me now, I shouldn't have listened to you."

"Who does? Matts? Why would he hate you? And why am I in all this?" Mitch's eyes fill with tears, and even through the blur, he can make out a hickey high on Willy's neck. It was all supposed to work out - he thought it would - there's no way it should've felt like it did. Willy's doing fucking amazing - why...why can't that be him?

"When we went out I danced with him and I kissed him and told him I loved him and he ran away and called me-" Mitch buries his face in his hands and sobs. Willy doesn't know what to do, having never seen his friend in such a state of despair.

"What did he call you?" He sets a hand on Mitch's shoulder, and Mitch sits up and curls into him.

"A fag," he breathes into Willy's chest, hands twisting it around as the tears don't stop falling. Willy's stomach twists, and he has a sudden urge to throw up. "My best friend called me a fucking  _fag,_ Willy, I wanted to fucking _die_! I hate myself, I hate him, I hate you, I hate everything!" Willy only holds him tighter, rubbing his back comfortingly. He begins to softly sing a Swedish lullaby that his mother used to sing to him and Alex when they were young. 

" _Byssan lull, koka kittelen full,  
där kommer tre vandringsmän på vägen. Den ene, ack så halt, den andre, o så blind, den tredje säger alls ingenting."_

He can hear Mitch's soft cries, muffled by the fabric of his Leafs t-shirt. 

" _Byssan lull, koka kittelen full,_  
_där blåser tre vindar på haven, på Stora ocean, på lilla Skagerack  
och långt upp i Bottniska viken_." 

He sings until there are no more verses, the front of his shirt soaking wet and Mitch's shoulders silently shaking as he releases all his pent-up emotions. 

Willy repeats the first verse of the song, knowing he's not the best singer in the world, but Mitch looks up at him like he _is_ the world. "Please - please don't say you hate me," he whimpers, and Willy's heart melts. "Please don't leave me."

"Real friends never abandon each other," he says. "And I couldn't hate you even if I tried. You might be a world-class pest sometimes, but you'll always be my fucking wonderful and awesome and crazy talented best friend. Understand?" Mitch tries to say something, a dry sob the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

He falls back into Willy's chest, feeling a hand on his back and one stroking through his hair, silently telling him that things will - even if it seems impossible - go on. He'll be okay, even if he feels like his heart is torn to pieces. 

What went wrong? 


End file.
